Eastern Mediterranean mezze get the José Andrés treatment in his wonderful new 'Zaytinya' cookbook

By Leslie Brenner

A month ago, you might have been tempted to think the world already had enough Mediterranean cookbooks — and then José Andrés published one.

The prolific restaurateur and founder of World Central Kitchen seems to have put his heart and soul into Zaytinya, which celebrates the mezze (shared small plates) tradition of the Eastern Mediterranean — Greece, Turkey and Lebanon. (Zaytinya means “olive oil” in Turkish).

More specifically, it celebrates “José’s way” with those dishes — just as the Washington, D.C. restaurant it’s named for does. The result is one of the most exciting cookbooks published in the last few years. The recipes are tremendously appetizing and do-able, and the dishes that wound up on my table were, without exception, pretty spectacular.

Most exciting to me is the book’s deep dive into Greek culinary traditions and ingredients. Serious titles on the subject are uncommon on the American cookbook landscape, and it’s such an appealing cuisine. Happily, it is a strong focus in the book.

But it’s not Greek grandma cooking (nor Turkish or Lebanese grandma cooking) that’s on display in this volume. As Andrés writes in his introduction, his mezze honor the region’s traditional dishes but “created in a new way — using ingredients and techniques that inspire me and my team. That’s what gives Zaytinya its unique style, and what has filled the restaurant from the first day it opened, two decades ago.”

Seared Scallops with Tzatziki, prepared from a recipe in ‘Zaytinya’: This is not Greek grandma cooking.

José’s way with scallops

Andrés’ recipe for Seared Scallops with Tzatziki is a case in point. The tzatziki is pretty straightforward-traditional; garlic confit in place of raw garlic is a worthwhile cheffy touch, and the tzatziki on its own is wonderful. Here it gets spread it on a plate, topped with seared scallops and garnished with shaved radishes, herbs and Sumac Rose Spice — a magical blend of pink peppercorns, dried rose petals, sumac, cumin, Urfa pepper and sesame seeds. The use of rose petals is more Persian, Turkish and Indian than Greek, and that’s the kind of flair that makes so many of the recipes stand out.

That spice mix also happens to be gorgeous, so it’s surprising that the photo of the scallops in the book leaves it off. (When was the last time a recipe you attempted at home was prettier than the photo in the book?) Since testing the recipe, I’ve been using the mix on all kinds of things: sprinkled on other fish besides scallops; over leeks vinaigrette, or over labneh for a snack. (It would also be fantastic on cacik, the Turkish yogurt-and-cucumber soup, or on minted pea soup, hot or cold.)

RECIPE: ‘Zaytinya’ Seared Scallops with Tzatziki

The book does include some recipes that are completely traditional, particularly in the chapter on sauces and spreads. There you’ll find straight-ahead hummus and toum; I didn’t test those, but I did test a recipe for muhammara. — roasted red pepper and walnut spread. Andrés’ headnote explains that the dip is “often associated with Syria, but it’s also claimed by Lebanon and Turkey,” where the dish is made with Marash pepper, very similar to Aleppo (which is what Andrés’ recipe calls for). Andrés has you roast the peppers partway, then scatter walnuts over them and continue roasting, then sprinkle Aleppo pepper and cumin over those and roast a little longer. Then everything gets blitzed together. Very smart, simple and user-friendly, and that muhamarra was easily the best that’s ever come out of my kitchen.

RECIPE: ‘Zaytinya’ Muhammara

Zaytinya’s introduction provides a lot of rich background — about what first drew the Spanish-born chef to the Eastern Mediterranean, and about all the history and shared culture that connect modern-day Greece, Turkey and Lebanon. “The connections between the people of this region are old and deep,” he writes, “and their shared food traditions prove that what brings us together is more powerful than what separates us.”

He tells us about the time he and his wife spent in Athens, Santorini, Thessaloniki and Istanbul more than two decades ago, doing research for the restaurant, and particularly time spent with the Kea, Greece-based cookbook author Aglaia Kremenzi, who became an important “mentor and guide.” It’s so delightful to read about restaurant R&D with that kind of depth and seriousness — such a rarity. America is filled with restaurants that get their ideas about the cuisines they represent from other American restaurants representing those cuisines, without their chefs and owners going back and diving deeply into those food cultures where they were born. That depth of research is felt throughout the book.

Gigantes star in a Turkish-Greek crossover

Once of my favorite dishes (at least so far; I have a couple dozen Post-Its on the pages of dishes I still want to make) is Andrés’ spin on piyaz, traditionally a Turkish bean-and-onion salad. Here it’s given a Greek twist with the addition of dill and ladolemono, a lemon-honey dressing. It’s served warm, more of a bean stew. Andrés calls for dried gigante beans or large limas; I used heirloom Royal Coronas from Rancho Gordo, which were ideal.

RECIPE: ‘Zaytinya’ White Bean Stew

A few tiny quibbles

The book isn’t perfect. Some of the yields were off (the Muhammara recipe says it makes about 1 cup; in fact it made nearly 2 cups); a recipe for Greek almond cookies (amygdalota) yielded 39 cookies, nine more than the 30 stated. Not a big deal, but 30 would have fit on one baking sheet, and 39 do not. An otherwise excellent recipe for meatballs in spiced tomato sauce, or soutzoukakia, makes far more sauce than needed for the one-pound-worth of ground beef it calls for; next time I’d make one-and-a-half times as much of the meatballs.

Also, I couldn’t help but wonder, other than the larger-format dishes in a chapter called “Family & Fire,” are these dishes really all meant to be mezze? I dearly love those scallops, but if they’re only meant to be one part of a big spread, that’s a lot of work. It’s not too much work for a main course, though — especially one that’s such a show-stopper.

A bit of explanation about how to approach menu-planning would have been appreciated. How many dishes would you plan for a spread, or how should one strategize executing them? Should you do a few cold ones and a few hot?

Finally, it seems crazy, in this day and age, not to include metric measures in a cookbook. I added metric equivalents in my adaptation of Andrés’ recipes, but they’re not in the original.

These are small quibbles, though, especially as everything tested was so delicious and appealing; there wasn’t a single dish I wouldn’t make again. (The spiced tomato sauce for those meatballs was outrageously good.)

I’ll certainly make Zaytinya’s Garides Me Ánitho (Buttery Shrimp with Dill) again, but I’ll need to get signed permission slips from my guests’ cardiologists: The mezze, which serves four, uses an entire stick of butter. I almost didn’t make it, until I read in the headnote that “shrimp like these are served in tavernas throughout Greece, along with a glass of ouzo,” and that it’s been on the menu at Zaytinya since it opened. (Damn — I missed it the couple times I dined there!)

Here Andrés’ twist is adding a touch of grainy mustard. It’s really good.

RECIPE: ‘Zaytinya’ Greek Taverna Shrimp (Garides Me Ánitho)

And those recipes with Post-Its?

There are so many I’m eager to make. Hommus with Spiced Lamb. Taramasalata Andrés promises will be a revelation (a jar of tarama, or carp roe, is on its way to me). Handmade Phyllo. Turkish Stuffed Eggplant (Mam Bayikdi). Cod Steamed in Grape Leaves (Bakaliarios Se Klimatofila). Manti (the iconic Turkish savory dumplings in yogurt sauce). A spice-rubbed Roasted Lamb Shoulder that looks amazing; you serve it with lettuce leaves, harissa, tzatziki, toum and pita bread. A beautiful parfait of Greek Yogurt with Apricots. Walnut Ice Cream.

All of which is a long-winded way of saying if you love cooking Mediterranean food, you definitely want this book.

Zaytinya: Delicious Mediterranean Dishes from Greece, Turkey, and Lebanon by José Andrés, Ecco, 2024, $45.

---

If you like this review, you might enjoy:

READ: Cookbooks We Love: ‘Claudia Roden’s Mediterranean’ is one of the revered author’s greatest volumes

READ: ‘Via Carota’ is Cooks Without Borders’ Cookbook of the Year

READ: Cookbooks We Love: Reem Kassis’ ‘The Arabesque Table’ offers irresistible spins on Levantine tradition

---

Want recipes delivered right to your inbox? Sign up for our free monthly newsletter below!

Five dishes we can’t wait to dive into this fall

By Leslie Brenner

Finally, a return to cooking! Earthy, warm flavors, a little roasting, a touch of char: so many things are enticing us back into the kitchen. Here are five dishes we’re excited to revisit this month.

Green Olive, Walnut and Pomegranate Salad

 This Turkish salad, from ‘Claudia Roden’s Mediterranean,’ stole our hearts in early summer, when pomegranates’ season was still three months away — it looked so good, we couldn’t review the book without giving it a try. Now that it’s pomegranate time, we can’t wait to get it back on the table.

RECIPE: Claudia Roden’s Stupendous Salad

Hooni Kim’s Japchae

Stretchy dangmyeon — clear noodles made from sweet potato starch — are the star japchae, a beloved staple of Korean home cooking. We love this version from Hooni Kim’s My Korea. (Kim, chef-owner of Meju and Danji in New York, has been making a huge splash with his year-old Little Banshan Shop.)

The japchae’s springy noodles get tangled in this recipe with spinach, red and green bell peppers, fresh shiitakes and onions in an umamiful sauce scented with sesame. It’s easy to make it vegan and/or gluten-free: Use water or vegan dashi in place of seafood-based dashi to make it vegan, and swap gluten-free tamari for soy sauce to make it gluten-free.

RECIPE: Hooni Kim’s Japchae

Chicken Musakhan

The national dish of Palestine — chicken roasted with lots of onion, olive oil and spices —  is traditionally made during the olive-pressing season in October. It’s served on flatbread, to soak up all those wonderful juices and olive oil. Sami Tamimi’s rendition, from his outstanding cookbook Falastin, is nothing short of spectacular.

RECIPE: Chicken Musakhan

Charred Okra with a Little Spice

 To celebrate okra at the height of their season, toss them in a little olive oil and salt, char them on a stovetop grill or griddle and finish with a drizzle of sambal oelek — Indonesian chile sauce. The result: cocktail snack extraordinaire.

 RECIPE: Charred Okra with a Little Spice

Charred Baby Eggplants from Anjali Pathak’s ‘The Indian Family Kitchen’

Anjali Pathak’s Charred Baby Eggplants

Baby eggplants halved and scored, then roasted or grilled, get a crunchy topping of coconut, mustard seeds, curry leaves and ginger – plus zingy red chiles and dabs of tangy yogurt. From Anjali Pathak’s The Indian Family Kitchen, it’s a winner.

RECIPE: Anjali Pathak’s Charred Baby Eggplants 

---

Want free recipes delivered to your inbox? Sign up below!

Why my desert-isle cookbook author would probably be Claudia Roden

Medley of Spring Vegetables from Claudia Roden’s ‘The Food of Spain’

By Leslie Brenner

[Women have a history of writing the best cookbooks. That’s why throughout March — Women’s History Month — we’ll be featuring cookbooks by our favorite female authors.]

If I had to choose just one cookbook author and live with only that author’s books for the rest of my life, it might well be Claudia Roden. Somehow, after decades of cooking, I haven’t paid nearly enough attention to the widely lauded, highly accomplished, deeply interesting 87-year-old author of 20 cookbooks. Foolish, foolish me!

I own four Roden titles, and I’ve cooked from them all, always with excellent results. I’ve called upon her books frequently for research; they’ve informed my approach to baba ganoush and helped me develop a recipe for pita bread. But somehow I have rarely just relaxed and cooked from Roden’s books, and never fully recognized how much I love them. It’s a little like one of those old-fashioned romantic comedies where the young, handsome, gallivanting star suddenly sees that the love of his life has been right there under his nose the whole time: the girl next door. Only I’m not young, handsome or a gadabout, and Claudia Roden is definitely not the girl next door.

Born in Cairo, Egypt to Jewish-Syrian parents and now based in London, Roden has made a brilliant career of studying and writing about the foods of the Middle East and Mediterranean. Her 2011 title, The Food of Spain — a 609-page magnum opus — won first prize for International Cookbooks by the International Association of Culinary Professionals. Her 1968 book, The New Book of Middle Eastern Food, was updated 32 years later, then inducted in 2010 in the James Beard Foundation’s Cookbook Hall of Fame. In 1997, The Book of Jewish Food: An Odyssey from Samarkand to New York won the James Beard Award for Cookbook of the Year.

Ab Ghooshte Fasl (Iranian Bean Soup) from Claudia Roden’s ‘The New Book of Middle Eastern Food’

I love Roden’s aesthetic, she’s a great cook and a captivating food historian. Just about any other author I might choose to focus on for the rest of my life would have depth of knowledge in one or two, or maybe three food cultures. Roden has taken deep dives into so many. In one book alone — The New Book of Middle Eastern Food — she covers Albanian, Algerian, Armenian, Bedouin, Egyptian, Greek, Iranian, Tunisian, Turkish, Syrian, etc. etc., the work of more than two decades. She spent five intensive years researching Spanish cooking for the aforementioned magnum opus. Arabesque focuses on Morocco, Turkey and Lebanon.

As if that weren’t enough, 16 months ago she published Claudia Roden’s Mediterranean: Treasured Recipes from a Lifetime of Travel. And you know what? If you think the world already had enough Mediterranean cookbooks, it didn’t — Roden’s is one of the most quietly captivating ever published.

In the Introduction, Roden writes that after her children left home thirty-five years earlier, she embarked on a solo trip all around the Mediterranean inspired by a childhood memory of visiting Alexandria. Traveling alone was “strange and suspect” in those days, but it allowed her to meet people everywhere. “My interest was in home cooking and regional food,” she writes. “I was invited into homes where people still cooked as their parents and grandparents did.”

After so many decades, the Mediterranean — and all that she has encountered in her travels — continues to inspire her. Working on this particular book, she explains,

“has kept me happy, thinking of people and places, magic moments, and glorious food. It might be cold and raining outside, but in my kitchen and at my desk in London I am smiling under an azure sky. The smell of garlic sizzling with crushed coriander seeds takes me back to the Egypt of my childhood. The aroma of saffron and orange zest mingled with aniseeed and garlic triggers memories of the French Riviera.”

How beautiful is that?

I only started cooking from that last book a month ago; there are enticing recipes on nearly every page. The first dish I made was so wonderful, I made it again two weeks later: chicken thighs baked saucily with green olives, boiled lemons and lots of garlic. To accompany it Roden offers (practically in an aside), the most brilliant method for making couscous I’ve ever found — you pour salted warm water over the grains, stir them, let them swell for 10 minutes, then add olive oil and rub the couscous between your hands to “aerate the grains” and break up lumps. Cover it with foil and bake it for 10 or 15 minutes. The result is nearly as perfect as the traditional way, when you painstakingly moisten, rub, and steam the grains two or three times. I promise recipes soon, accompanying a review of the book.

Till then, please treat yourself to these Roden recipes:

Tender veg for early spring

If you can’t wait for spring, try this Medley of Spring Vegetables, inspired by the traditional Spanish soup menestra de primavera, from The Food of Spain. I made it last night, and I’d make it again next week.

RECIPE: Claudia Roden’s Medley of Spring Vegetables

Soup for a chilly late-winter day

On a cold day (there are surely still a few to come this season), simmer a pot of Ab Ghooshte Fasl — Iranian Bean Soup. The recipe is adapted from The New Book of Middle Eastern Food.

RECIPE: Ab Ghooshte Fasl (Iranian Bean Soup)

Savory snack for anytime

Cod Fritters from Claudia Roden’s ‘The Food of Spain’

Finally, these tender, fabulous Buñuelos de Bacalao — Cod Fritters — are made with fresh fish rather than salt cod. That means no soaking the fish, so you don’t have to think about them a day in advance.

RECIPE: Buñuelos de Bacalao (Cod Fritters)

I’ve only just scratched the surface in discovering all this cookbook giant has to offer. Hopefully I still have a long cooking life ahead of me because Roden’s thousands and thousands of pages promise infinite deliciousness.

BUY Claudia Roden’s books at Amazon

---

Find more cookbook reviews from Cooks Without Borders

Want free recipes delivered to your inbox? Sign up below!

Cookbooks We Love: Reem Kassis' 'The Arabesque Table' offers irresistible spins on Levantine tradition

By Leslie Brenner

The Arabesque Table: Contemporary Recipes from the Arab World by Reem Kassis; photographs by Dan Perez; 2021, Phaidon, $39.95.

Backgrounder

Born and raised in Jerusalem, Reem Kassis — who now lives in Pennsylvania, and lived in four other countries in between — is a former McKinsey consultant with two undergraduate degrees from the University of Pennsylvania, an MBA from Wharton and an MSc in social psychology from the London School of Economics. Following the birth of her first of two daughters, she stepped back from her 10-year career and decided to follow her “real passion” — cooking, food and food history. Her first cookbook, The Palestinian Table (2017), wove recipes from her family together with Palestinian culture and history. It won the British Guild of Food Writers First Book Award and was nominated for a James Beard Award.

Kassis’ aim with The Arabesque Table, as she explains in its introduction, was to write about and express in recipes “the evolving and cross-cultural Arab table.”

Why we love it

Kassis has created a fabulously rich collection of recipes and stories that manage to do three things at once. First, they ground us in the culinary traditions of the Arab world — particularly the Fertile Crescent (a.k.a. the Levant or the Middle East). Second, they paint an evocative picture of her Jerusalem childhood through food and her family traditions. And third, they give us a delicious collection of recipes that have her own very personal stamp.

Relatively new to the world of food-writing and professional cookery as Kassis may be, she has a great palate and a wonderful creative instincts. Her recipes respect and pay tribute to the flavors, ingredients and vibe of the Levant, but she’s not afraid to take liberties and risks — often to delightful effect. Many of these dishes will become permanent fixtures in my repertoire. Impressive!

For instance: a magnificent mega-mezza

Not a traditional dish, this roasted eggplant salad on a cushion of tahini is Kassis’ invention — combining elements of mutabal (roasted eggplant dip with tahini) and bitinjan al rahib (“monk’s eggplant” — roasted eggplant with fresh vegetables). As a result, it’s kind of like everything you want in a mezze assortment but all on one plate. The eggplant salad part, which has a gorgeous zing from just the right amount of pomegrante molasses, has pops of salty-meaty umami flavor from sliced green olives; walnuts add complexity and a bit of crunch. The tahini sauce is a creamy, rich foil. Swipe a piece of warm pita through it and you’re transported to everywhere you ever wanted to visit in the Levant.

RECIPE: ‘Arabesque Table’ Eggplant Salad on Tahini

And an elegant main you can make in a flash

I love this dish of shrimp sautéed with artichoke hearts, turmeric and garlic, enriched with a splash of half-and-half and brightened with slices of fresh lemon — with the salty undertone of preserved lemon. And once you have the shrimps peeled and deveined, it comes together nearly as quickly as you can read that sentence. (Seriously, you can have it to the table in 15 minutes.) In fact, I’ve made it twice in two weeks.

RECIPE: Reem Kassis’ Artichoke Shrimp with Turmeric and Preserved Lemon

This goes great with that

If you’re a fan of fresh fava beans, but don’t enjoy spending the time peeling every single one, you’ll be glad to know that the bags of frozen ones (already peeled!) you can buy in well stocked Middle Eastern groceries are nearly as good. Or maybe you already knew. In any case, Kassis reminds us — and offers her original take on a Levantine classic. In the traditional version, made with fresh favas, the skins are left on, and the beans are chopped then cooked in “a generous amount of oil” to the point of very soft, then flavored with garlic and coriander.

Kassis prefers them bright green and free of skins — and having tasted favas in their skins, I agree. She most often makes this using frozen favas, and again: agreed. The dish is easy, delicious and I’ve already made it thrice.

RECIPE: Fava Beans with Garlic, Cilantro and Lime

Gotta try this!

Every comprehensive Middle-Eastern cookbook offers instructions on making labneh (or labaneh), the thick, creamy fresh yogurt-cheese that’s ubiquitous in the region. But somehow I’d never tried it till Kassis sung its praises. You don’t need a recipe; just stir together a quart of full-fat yogurt (regular, not Greek) with a teaspoon (or a little more) of salt, pour it into a cheesecloth-lined sieve set over a bowl, and let it drain overnight. In the morning, you have labneh. Add honey or jam, scoop it up with toasted bread, and you have breakfast. Or wait till noon, drizzle it with olive oil and sumac and call it lunch. More to come on that in a future story, but try it now; it’s delicious — definitely greater than the sum of its simple parts.

But wait — give us some pickles

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention this very simple and quick pickle set-up. The brine — just vinegar, curry powder, turmeric, ground fenugreek, salt and water — makes delicious cauliflower and carrot pickles you can enjoy in a couple hours. They get even better as they sit, and you can also throw in cabbage, green beans, turnips or other veg. Keep one or two jars, give another as a gift.

RECIPE: Turmeric and Fenugreek Quick Pickles

A very minor suggestion

I tested a total of 7 recipes from The Arabesque Table. For the most part, they worked great, and tasted great. Out of those there’s only one I’ll probably not make again, not because I didn’t enjoy it, but because it more labor-intensive than its result warranted. And only one had a significant problem I had to fix in our adaptation (the tahini sauce for the eggplant dip was liquid when directions were followed closely, rather than spreadable).

But I do have a general note: If you purchase the book (and you should if you love these flavors!), be sure to taste the dishes at key points and adjust the seasoning. That’s an instruction that was left of out all the recipes, as far as I can see, and obviously it’s always super important.

Still Wanna Make

So many things! Fire-Roasted Eggplant and Tomato Mutabal. Spiced Kebabs with Preserved Lemon Dill Yogurt. Seafood Stew with Preserved Lemon, Apricots and Olives. Mustard Greens with Labaneh (now that I know how to make lebaneh!). Sujuk — Spicy Cured Sausage. Makmoora — which is a chicken pot pie spun from a 10th-century recipe. Chicken breasts stuffed with pistachios, radish greens and sumac. Lemon Rosemary Semolina Cake.

Thank you, Ms. Kassis, for what promises to be some delicious future adventures.

Make hummus, not war: In the face of unspeakable destruction in Gaza, show solidarity through cooking

By Leslie Brenner

The humanitarian catastrophe that is devastating Gaza — which began with Israeli police preventing Palestinians from gathering near one of East Jerusalem’s ancient city gates during the holy month of Ramadan — is tragic, outrageous, and needs to stop.

For an American of Jewish descent who deplores the actions of Israel’s far-right-wing government, the feelings of shame, outrage and powerlessness can be overwhelming.

What can we do from thousands of miles away, besides plead for a cease-fire? We can support the civilians of Gaza by thinking about them as people. By learning about them, and trying to understand Palestinians and their plight.

Even before the current waves of bombs and rockets, the territory was suffering mightily: According to a United Nations report published last year, it has the “world’s highest unemployment rate,” with more than half its population living below the poverty line. Now more than 200 people there have been killed, including at least 61 children.

As a cook, it’s hard not to think immediately about Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi, who wrote their incredible cookbook Jerusalem together and published it a decade ago. And about Tamimi and Tara Wigley, who published Falastin last year, celebrating the cooking of Palestine. (Ottolenghi wrote the foreword, explaining that with Falastin, Tamimi and Wigley “picked up the baton where it was left after Jerusalem.”)

Though saying so feels woefully inadequate for the moment, peace begins with understanding. If you don’t know anything about Palestinians, get your hands on the book. Plan a dinner of Chicken Musakhan, Palestine’s national dish. Read about the people, their culture of tahini, the way they make bread. Watch Tara Wigley talking with Cooks Without Borders about her experiences traveling and researching in Palestine for the book.

Meanwhile, make hummus — now, or tonight. Brilliant in its simplicity, it’s a dip enjoyed by Palestinians and Israelis alike. (And don’t forget that there are legions of Israelis who are against what their government is doing, just as legions of Americans deplored anti-human American policies like permanently separating families coming across our borders.) You can use dried chick peas, for the Ultimate Hummus, or use canned ones for a pretty great Cheater Version. Make your own pita bread (khobz in Arabic), or pick some up at Trader Joe’s.

Protest on a plate. Empathy, in a dip.

RECIPE: Ultimate Hummus

RECIPE: Amazing Cheater Hummus

RECIPE: ‘Falastin’ Chicken Musakhan

RECIPE: Half Whole-Wheat Pita Bread

Cooks Without Borders to host Tara Wigley — Ottolenghi and Tamimi's co-author — for a special live video event

Tara Wigley is co-author of ‘Falastin,’ ‘Ottolenghi Simple’ and other cookbooks. / Photo by Jenny Zarins

By Leslie Brenner

If you are a fan of Yotam Ottlenghi and his books (is there anyone who isn’t?), you’ll want to join Cooks Without Borders when we host Tara Wigley for a special Live Video Q & A on Thursday, Feb. 25. The one-hour event will begin at noon CST (10 a.m. PST / 11 a.m. MST / 1 p.m. EST). For participants in Britain, where Wigley lives, it begins at 6 p.m. GMT.

Wigley has collaborated with Ottolenghi since 2010, when she assisted him, working out of his flat in Notting Hill, London, on his cooking column for The Guardian. She has since become an important part of the Ottolenghi family, having worked on many of the cookbooks it has produced, including Plenty More, Nopi and Sweet — and co-authored several with the chef, including Flavor (the most recent) and Ottolenghi Simple — which is probably our favorite of them all.

[Read our review of Ottolenghi Simple.]

Wigley also co-authored, with chef Sami Tamimi (Ottolenghi’s business partner), Falastin — another Cooks Without Borders all-time favorite. You can see her in this video preparing a dish we absolutely adore — Chicken Musakhan — and other Palestinian treats with Tamimi.

[Read our review of Falastin.]

Wigley’s involvement with the Ottolenghi-sphere began when she was just out of Ballymaloe Cookery School in Ireland, having left behind a career in publishing. After a brief stint working at Nopi, she was trying to figure out her life when she got an out-of-the-blue phone call from chef Ottolenghi, who was her “complete hero” — and she thought it was her husband playing a practical joke on her. She tells about it, including how things played out in this wonderful video.

About the Live Q & A with Wigley

Cooks Without Borders Premium Members will have exclusive access to participate in the live event on the 25th, which I’ll be hosting. If you’re not yet a Premium Member, don’t worry — you can try out Premium Membership for one month for free! Or take advantage of our special Charter Annual Membership opportunity.

YES! I’d like a Free Trial Premium Membership. SIGN ME UP!

I have so many questions I’m excited to ask Wigley, and I’m sure you do, too! Hope to see you there.

Live Q & A with Tara Wigley, Thursday, Feb. 25, noon CST (10 a.m. PST, 11 a.m. MST, 1 p.m. EST, 6 p.m. GMT). Sign up from the premium members’ home page.

What to make this weekend: Baked kofta with eggplant and tomato from Sami Tamimi's 'Falastin'

Autumn is my favorite time of year to cook. The kitchen feels cozy (even if it’s still hot outside, as it is here in North Texas), and the ingredients speak to my soul.

It feels like the perfect time — while tomatoes are still happening — to make these baked kofta from Sami Tamimi and Tara Wigley’s recent book, Falastin.

Each kofta is a meltingly tender, intensely flavorful package made by stacking ingredients: a slice of roasted eggplant; a kofta patty made from lamb, beef, onion, garlic, tomato, herbs and spices; a slice of tomato, some rustic tomato sauce.

The aroma as they roast is intoxicating.

Garnished with fresh herbs and toasted pine nuts, it’s a dish that’s at once homey and sophisticated, comfortingly familiar yet gorgeously spiced.

Served with rice, couscous, roasted potatoes or a root-vegetable purée, it makes a smashing fall dinner.

If by some miracle every kofta is not gobbled up, they reheat brilliantly.

RECIPE: ‘Falastin’ Baked Kofta

Exuberantly delicious and beautifully told, 'Falastin' is one of those life-changing cookbooks

My cookbook shelves are lined with hundreds of earnest volumes filled with culturally faithful recipes for legions of traditional dishes. Usually the recipes work and the dishes are correct, often they’re pretty good, occasionally they’re very good. But rarely, when cooked as written, are they so delicious that they make me want to cry.

Sami Tamimi and Tara Wigley’s Falastin: a Cookbook, which Ten Speed Press published last month, is bursting with recipes from Palastine that do just that.

Because it’s described in the headnote as “the hugely popular national dish of Palestine,” I stuck a Post-It on the page with Chicken Musakhan on my first pass through the book, as a reminder to cook it soon. But it looked so simple, like there was nothing to it — just some cut-up chicken rubbed with spices and roasted, served on flat bread with cooked onions (how great could that be?) — so I kept passing it by.

Until one evening I didn’t.

It was gobsmackingly, soul-stirringly fabulous. The chicken, a whole quartered bird, gets tossed with a lot of cumin and sumac, plus cinnamon, allspice, olive oil, salt and pepper, then roasted. Once out of the oven, it gets layered on crisped pieces of torn flatbread with a lot of long-cooked, sumac-and-cumin-loaded sliced red onions, fried pine nuts, plenty of parsley and spooned over with the roasting juices from the chicken. More olive oil gets drizzled on, and more sumac. It’s a stunning, fragrant centerpiece. Before serving it, you pull apart the chicken pieces with your fingers into two or three piece each. Put it in the middle of the table, and have everyone dive in, pulling the chicken apart with fingers, grabbing some soaky, juicy, crispy bread and sumac-ky onions, and groaning with pleasure, and diving back in.

When can we have this again??!!

I went back and reread the headnote. The dish was traditionally made during olive-oil pressing season to celebrate the freshly-pressed oil, but now it’s enjoyed year-round. “Growing up, Sami ate it once a week,” goes the headnote. “It’s a dish to eat with your hands and with your friends, served from one pot or plate, for everyone to then tear at some of the bread and spoon on the chicken and topping for themselves.”

Traditionally, taboon bread is used in the dish. Baked on pebbles in a conical oven, the bread has a pock-marked surface that are great for catching the juices. But the recipe calls for any Arabic flatbread (we used pita from a local Lebanese bakery that I’d stashed in the freezer), or naan.

I can see why Tamimi’s mom, Na’ama, made it once a week: It’s fun and easy to make, probably no more than an hour from start to finish, and a great crowd-pleaser. I’ll be buying sumac futures this week: A full three tablespoons of the spice (a powerful anti-oxidant) go into the dish.

If you’re not familiar with Tamimi, some context may be helpful. Chances are you do know of Yotam Ottolenghi and his cookbooks. Tamimi is head chef for and a founding partner in Ottolenghi’s namesake London restaurant empire. He co-authored Ottolenghi’s first cookbook (Ottolenghi: the Cookbook, 2008). Together the two — led by Ottolenghi — created a style of produce-forward, Levant-accented, slouchy-chic improvisational cooking. In other words, what they did powerfully influenced the way so many of us cook now, and the way food looks on blogs and on Instagram — seductively dissheveled, vegetable happy and casually strewn with tons of herbs.

The two chefs went on to co-author Jerusalem: a Cookbook (2012). Both had grown up in Jerusalem in the 70s and 80s — Ottolenghi, who is Israeli and Italian, in the Jewish west part of the city and Tamimi, who is Palestinian, in the Muslim east. They didn’t know each other back home; they met in London, where they were both living in the 1990s. To the Jerusalem project, each brought his delicious perspective, and they wove together a gorgeous, deep, inspired, cookable portrait of their hometown. The book didn’t shy away from politics, but its explorations managed to unify rather than divide.

With Falastin, Tamimi explores the cooking of his beloved Palestine. “There is no letter ‘P’ in the Arabic language,” begins the introduction, so ‘Falastin’ is, on the one hand, simply the way ‘Falastinians’ refer to themselves.’”

Of course there is an “on the other hand” — and that’s the substance of the book, which Tamimi co-authored with Tara Wigley, a cook and writer who also co-authored Ottolenghi’s most recent book, Ottolengi Simple, and who is an integral part of the Ottolenghi family.

Cilantro-crusted roasted cod with tahini sauce

Beautifully photographed by Jenny Zarins, it’s a wonderful read that conveys so much about the culture that you might feel you’ve been there, and fallen in love with its people. A visit to the apartment-house kitchen of the “yogurt-making ladies of Bethlehem” gives richness to a recipe for balls of labneh (thickened yogurt) marinated in olive oil then rolled in dried herbs or spices. A trip to the Jerusalem shop where Kamel Hashlamon produces tahini that’s “somewhere between a paste and a liquid and truly good enough to drink” makes us understand what separates great tahini from all the bitter crap we get stateside (Humera sesame seeds from Ethiopia, bespoke millstone made by a master Syrian stonemason, cold-pressing at 140 degrees).

The authors, refusing to tip-toe around the politics, address head-on the difficult questions that arise as they tour us around. For instance, it becomes clear that because Kamel sells to a largely Israeli (but also Palestinian) market, some feel he has “sold out.” When Kamel justifies his position by saying “We are all living in the result of the game,” Tamimi doesn’t let him off easy. In the end, though, the last image of his “small stunning shop,” with its irresistible product, is of Israelis and Palestinians standing “side by side at the counter, looking through the glass, debating little more than which halva to buy.” Complicated, uneasy, but what what a privilege it is to be let in on it in a cookbook.

From a culinary point of view, Falastin is also a rare gift: a cookbook filled with exuberantly delicious recipes, each with the special flair of a super-gifted chef, but without the ridiculous, long lists of obscure ingredients and sub-recipes that you needed to start preparing three days ago. These are approachable, thoughtfully crafted and apparently carefully tested recipes that are easy to follow, simple enough to execute and clearly designed to work for a moderately capable home cook.

If the aesthetic driver of the Ottolenghi books is herbs, with Falastin it is spices — lots of spices, aromatic, dreamy and unapologetic. Flavors in all the dishes are dialed way up. (One touch I really appreciate: Tamimi and Wigley never leave us guessing about how much salt to use — they always specify, and it’s always right on or close.)

Back to my bookshelves and all those earnest volumes. Among all the serious Middle Eastern, Levantine, Mediterranean and North African cookbooks, I hadn’t been able to find an appealing recipe for ful medames — the traditional fava bean dish that’s mostly closely associated with Egypt. There were recipes, sure, but none found any joy in the dish — which is, after all, really just doctored canned fava beans.

Tamimi has a wonderful way of elevating the ordinary. His version of ful starts by ridding the beans of their canned taste — by draining, rinsing, then simmering them in water, a five minute process that makes all the difference. Once they’re drained again, cumin is invited to the party, along with the lemon, garlic and chile. A delightful salad of red onion, sumac and parsley goes on top, along with tomato; avocado adds cool and creamy depth. Soft boiled egg, which is optional, adds another dimension.

Finally, the ful medames I dreamed of — so good I will make sure to keep canned favas stocked, so I can whip it up on a regular basis. (This is what I mean by life-changing.)

Not surprisingly, there’s a little overlap with the dishes in Jerusalem: It would be odd for this book not to include hummus, for instance, or tahini sauce. But the books complement each other really well: While Jerusalem gave us Maqluba, a one-pot layered dish of eggplant, chicken thighs and rice inverted onto a plate to serve, Falastin gives us Maqlubet el Foul el Akdhar — Upside-Down Spiced Rice with Lamb and Fava Beans. (Will be making that soon as I can source some Iranian dried limes!)

And while Jerusalem proposes Kofta B’siniya (seared lamb-and-beef patties in tahini sauce), Falastin offers Kofta Bil Batinjan — Baked Kofta with Eggplant and Tomato. Another major crowd-pleaser!

Kofta Bil Batinjan — Baked Kofta with Eggplant and Tomato

For the three of us, this was a fabulous dinner two nights running — the leftovers were every bit as delectable.

There are so many recipes I still have marked to try. Preserved Stuffed Eggplants; Cauliflower and Cumin Fritters with Mint Yogurt; Shatta (an exciting looking red or green chile sauce); Na’ama’s Buttermilk Fattoush; Roasted Eggplant with Tamarind and Cilantro; a zucchini, garlic and yogurt dip called M’tawaneh; Buttery Rice with Toasted Vermicelli; Eggplant, Chickpea and Tomato Bake (Musaq’a); Pomegranate-Cooked Lentils and Eggplants; Lemon Chicken with Za’atar.

There are baked treats that look incredible, too: Sweet Tahini Rolls, and the triangular spinach pies called Fatayer Sabanekh; Warbat — filo triangles filled with cream cheese and pistachio and doused in rose syrup, and definitely a Chocolate and Qahwa Flour-Free Torte, flavored with lots of cardamom and espresso (Qahwa is coffee in Arabic).

I love this book. I’m happy to think of its treasure-filled pages, and it gives me hope for the future — in more ways than one.

RECIPE: Chicken Musakhan

RECIPE: Cilantro-Crusted Roasted Cod

RECIPE: Ful Medames

RECIPE: Baked Kofta with Eggplant and Tomato

Falastin: a Cookbook, by Sami Tamimi and Tara Wigley, Ten Speed Press, $35.

Cool as a cuke: Four cucumber-happy salads to refresh you through a hot and heavy summer

Blimey, we all need a chill pill! In the absence of an effective one, we’ve been turning to the coolest of vegetables, the cucumber.

The Oxford Companion to Food tells us that the cucumber is “one of the oldest cultivated vegetables,” that it has been grown for some 4,000 years, that it may have originated in South India and that Christopher Columbus introduced it to Haiti in 1494. Jessica B. Harris points out, however, in The Africa Cookbook, that the some scholars feel that the cucumber may have come from Central Africa.

But wait — isn’t “one of the oldest cultivated vegetables” technically a fruit?

“It is a fruit,” says my friend Tim Simmonds, a Dallas botanist — and so are squashes, both summer and winter, including pumpkins. “Same big happy family.”

The curcurbit family, that is: the vine-y plant group that also includes watermelons, chayotes, gourds, cassabananas (a.k.a. melocotón) and the kiwano (a.k.a. African horned cucumber or jelly melon).

Given the cucumber’s origin story, it’s not surprising that it is popular in India — especially in the form of raita.

The cooling cucumber salad accompanies just about any kind of Indian meal, of course. But I’ve been known to enjoy a bowl of it on its own for a soothing lunch (particularly in a pandemic!).

Ours features grated cucumber, toasted cumin and a touch of lemon juice.

A Cucumber Sunomono was literally the first recipe we test-drove for our recent review of Sonoko Sakai’s Japanese Home Cooking, since the cucumber salad is a frequent starter of Japanese meals. This one, which weaves wakame seaweed in with the cukes, sports a jaunty grated-ginger garnish. We fell in love, not surprisingly. Maybe you will, too (let us know in a comment!).

Cucumbers also make appearances in Sakai’s recipe for Potato Salada and Dallas chef Justin Holt’s Salaryman Potato Salad.

But we’re not counting those in our four, so wait, there’s more!

This pretty Cucumber, Radish and Feta Salad came together as we riffed on a Levantine dish called khiar bel na’na, starring thin-sliced cukes, dried mint and orange-blossom water. We added radishes, scallions, feta and fresh mint (which layers beautifully with the dried). Lately it has become a house favorite.

And finally, this Scandanavian Cucumber-Dill Salad — which is wonderful with poached salmon, Cold Poached Arctic Char or even Swedish meatballs.

A happy development, at least in my neck of the woods, is that organic Persian cucumbers have become more readily available, even during the pandemic. They have lovely texture (as long as they’re nice and fresh), they’re less watery than English cukes but more flavorful than most hothouse cukes, and they don’t require peeling — a win win win. Though sizes for all kinds vary, generally speaking you can figure two Persian cucumbers for one medium English cucumber, or three for a large English cuke.

As you’ll see from the above recipes, many cultures salt cucumbers and let them sit to draw out the water and ensure great texture; sometimes gentle squeezing is called for as well. Hope you enjoy these refreshing treats.

Stay cool. Think cuke. Wear a mask. Stay healthy.

[RECIPE: Cucumber Raita]

[RECIPE: Cucumber Sunomono]

[RECIPE: Cucumber, Radish & Feta Salad]

[RECIPE: Cucumber-Dill Salad]